


The Forest of Five

by QueenNeehola



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, POV Second Person, vague eeriness and melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNeehola/pseuds/QueenNeehola
Summary: There is a rumour of a forest that exists somewhere as a world unto itself.  It is not a forest by a field, or a forest on a hill, for those are unimportant and everywhere: it is simplythe forest, a complete entity in its own right.Of course, many say that the forest simply doesn’t exist.  It’s a myth, an old wives’ tale, a story to make naughty children behave.  A fairy tale, rife with embellishments.It isn’t real.Except it is, because you have just found it.And this is the story of what, and who, you found in it.





	1. The Mermaid

**Author's Note:**

> so, i had an idea like "what if the five oddballs were actually magical beings instead of just weird teenage boys?" and it wouldn't leave me alone for like, weeks. this has probably been done before but hey!

There is a rumour of a forest that exists somewhere as a world unto itself.  It is not a forest by a field, or a forest on a hill, for those are unimportant and everywhere: it is simply _the forest_ , a complete entity in its own right.

 

The rumour says that the forest is sentient, that it can hear your thoughts and talk back to you—and that once you are lured in by the whispers in the leaves, that every tree has a gnarled, gaping mouth waiting to swallow you whole.

 

Another rumour says that, hundreds of years ago, a school lay on the forest grounds, and that the mists that curl around the tree trunks are the lingering, spectral souls of the pupils, lost and wandering forever more.

 

And, of course, many say that the forest simply doesn’t exist.  It’s a myth, an old wives’ tale, a story to make naughty children behave.  A fairy tale, rife with embellishments of the sound of singing from an empty lake, wisps of smoke rising from an odd little house, rose petals inviting you in, the forest itself vanishing only to reappear several miles away the next day.

 

It isn’t real.

Except it is, because you have just found it.

 

* * *

 

 

The little house on the forest edge exists too, you find.  It is small, and quaint, and pale yellow, and the smoke rises from the chimney and mingles with the mist, or the mist creeps downwards and trickles into the chimney—you can’t tell which it is, and for some reason, you feel like it could be either.

 

You knock, and then you knock again, but there is no answer.  The windows are fogged with a mist of their own, but writing appears in the panes in response to your knock, as if drawn with an invisible finger:

**I know you are Here**

**I am not currently at Home**

**Please try again Later**

 

You walk on into the forest.

 

* * *

 

 

You think you hear a howl, and the laughter of children perhaps.  You feel as though you’re being watched, but not unkindly.  Like a fond parent looking out for a child.

 

* * *

 

 

The trees and mist clear all at once, as though they have moved out of your way on the order of some unseen being, and you have found the lake.

It is large, but not overly grand, and perfectly still.  It’s bluer than the brightest sky and the deepest ocean all at once and yet, it is so clear you can see the bottom when you look into it.  There are no fish.

 

It is only after a few minutes you see the person watching you from in the water.

 

No, not person— _mer_ person.  His upper body is that of a human, but his lower half lengthens out into an impressive, majestic turquoise tail.  With the absence of trees, light streams into the lake clearing and glints off the merman’s scales, creating a rainbow in the water.  He swims over to you, but the water doesn’t ripple, as though he and the lake are one and the same.

“Hello,” he greets, perfectly pleasant, and rests his dainty elbows on the ground by your feet.

_Hello_.  You squat.  At this distance, you see the scales dusting his pale shoulders as well, and the inhuman slit of his pupils in his seafoam eyes.

“Are you a ‘human’?” he asks.  His voice is slow, languid—like the lazy _plops_ of water droplets rolling off leaves.

You nod.

“Are you a ‘friend’?”  You are unsure if you should nod.  The merman’s tail flicks idly back and forth in the water as he regards you.  He hasn’t blinked, you notice.  “I have no ‘friends’.  Not even in my ‘lake’.”

_What happened to the fish?_

“‘Fish’?” he repeats, cocking his head.  You notice for the first time the flaps of skin on either side of his throat.  They move slightly when he talks.  You think they are gills, but you’re not sure.  They look a little like deliberate gashes.  You stop looking.  The merman continues, “Ah, ‘fish’ are ‘tasty’.”

You think you know what happened to the fish.

 

“Would you like to be a ‘friend’?” the merman asks, and he holds out his hand.  He is smiling, and you want to say yes, but then he stops smiling, and you still want to say yes.  He sinks his arms back into the water and floats backwards.  You want to pull him back.  Would his skin be warm or cold?  “Ah, I can’t have ‘human’ ‘friends’.  I’m not ‘allowed’ to.”

You still want to be his friend.  You’re not sure why.  The water looks inviting.  _Not allowed?_   No, it looks cold.  Freezing.  You want to jump in.

“He doesn’t let me.  He gets ‘mad’ if I am ‘friends’ with humans.  He ‘likes’ humans.”

_He?_

“You should ‘leave’.”  Only the merman’s head is above the water now.  You stand.  You should leave.  You don’t want to leave.  “Will you come and ‘see’ me again?”

_Yes._   No.

“Goodbye, ‘human’,” he says, and then submerges.  He closes his eyes, and his gills open, and his hair fans out around him like waves in the otherwise tranquil waters.  He is beautiful, and you want to be underwater with him.

 

You turn and leave.

 

* * *

 

 

As the trees begin to appear around you once again, and the mist settles back down between the branches, you think you hear singing behind you.  It’s a low, mournful sound, lonely and pining.  You think of a cliff at night time overlooking the black abyss of the sea; the moon, a watery reflection of itself on the waves; footsteps, then pain, then wind whistling past your ears; the moon is closer now; the water slices your skin, blinds you, kisses you; you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, it’s all right, you are safe now, go to sleep, you can’t breathe—

 

The singing stops, and there are rose petals at your feet.  You follow them.


	2. The Fortune Teller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before you stands a—a boy, short and youthful, clad in purple robes with intricate golden detailing and a pointed hat of similar colours. He regards you curiously, head cocked to one side. His eyes flick down to the rose petals gathered on his doorstep, and he smiles brightly.  
> “I knew you would be Back,” he says, and turns inside again. You feel obliged to follow him. The door closes behind you.

You have no sense of going back the way you came, and yet, seemingly out of nowhere, the odd little yellow house comes back into view.  You look down at your feet.  The rose petals continue on, winding their own path right up to the cottage’s front door.  You approach.

* * *

 

The message on the window from before is gone, and you think you hear humming, or chanting, coming from inside, accompanied by fizzes and clinks and pops.

You knock.

 

The strange cacophony subsides, and after a long moment the door opens.

Before you stands a—a boy, short and youthful, clad in purple robes with intricate golden detailing and a pointed hat of similar colours.  He regards you curiously, head cocked to one side.  His eyes flick down to the rose petals gathered on his doorstep, and he smiles brightly.

“I knew you would be Back,” he says, and turns inside again.  You feel obliged to follow him.  The door closes behind you.

 

The orchestra of peculiar noises starts up again as the boy begins to hum softly—or are those words?  You can’t tell, but it doesn’t sound like any language you’ve ever heard—and now you see where the sounds originate from.

It’s the house itself.

* * *

 

As you enter, chairs tuck themselves into the sides of the room without prompting; a rumpled rug straightens itself out on the floor; and assorted pieces of cutlery and crockery float into the air from various corners, assemble themselves into a teetering pile in mid-air, and slowly transport themselves into a room in the back of the house (the kitchen?)—you follow their movement and see a countertop through the doorway that’s littered with a jumble of beakers, test tubes and…wine glasses?, each with a different colourful liquid bubbling away inside.

“I am sorry for the Mess.”  The boy’s words catch you off guard.  He’s sitting on a stool in the middle of the room before a round table that’s bare aside from a garish green and yellow tablecloth and a large, glass ball atop a pedestal.  You are not sure any of them were there when you came in.  “I don’t get many visitors out here, you See.”

 

“Please, take a Seat,” he continues, and when you blink there is an empty stool for you opposite him.

You sit.

_Are you a magician?_

The boy laughs.  The house seems to laugh with him.  “Some people call me That,” he replies.  “Or seer, or Witch.  I always wonder if they’re Right.”

_Are you human?_

He chuckles again, quieter this time.  You think it a fair question.  “Some people call me that Too.  I wonder about that as Well.”

 

Before you can query any further, the boy rests his hand on top of the glass ball.  It begins to glow, taking on a translucent, white shimmer.

“I am sorry about my absence Earlier,” he says.  The room around you dims, although you don’t remember seeing any lightbulbs or candles, and when you glance over at the windows they are still bright with outside light.  “Living on the cusp of the forest and the world Beyond…sometimes my business takes me to outside Lands.  Like the one you come from, little Kitten.”

_You meet with humans?_

“Yes.  Some wish for charms or spells, or curses or hexes, and I am happy to oblige for a Price.”  He removes his hand from the glass ball, and it remains glowing.  “And some wish to see what their future Holds.”

_Is that why you invited me in?_

“Me?”  He looks amused at the thought.  “Little kitten, the **forest** invited you In.  You are not the first to be lured in by the mists and the whispers, and you will not be the Last.  But maybe you will be able to Leave.  He seems to like you, and the forest likes Him.”

 _Him?_   You recall the merman you met spoke of someone as well.

“The one who led you Here.”

You open your mouth to object—wasn’t it whim of the forest that led you back to the cottage?—but the boy has closed his eyes, and placed both palms on the glass ball in front of him, and so you remain silent.

 

The humming, or singing, or chanting begins again, and you can’t tell if it’s coming from the boy, or the glass ball, or the house, or the forest.  Small multi-coloured lights, like rainbow fireflies, appear as if from thin air and encircle the table.  They float in slow, smooth up-and-down patterns, as though on a track, or a string.

“I See,” the boy says, almost to himself.  His voice is quiet, but somehow you can hear it above the melodic incantations.  “You will leave, but not Yet.  You are first to meet Them.”

The boy opens his eyes, but they are not his: they are faraway and old, so old.  “The sad, lonely soul in the Dark.  The one who has been here since it Began.  And…”

The boy blinks and he is himself again.  His lips split into a grin, and the glow fades from the glass ball.  The room slowly becomes light again.  “You will meet him after All.  At the End,” he says.

 

He stands before you can address him, and rushes into a room off to the side, robes billowing behind him.  His hat falls off in his haste, revealing his scarlet hair, then picks itself up off the floor and floats over to perch on a hat stand by the door.  The boy reappears a moment later, grasping a bundle of what look to be finely made fabrics of rich colours.  He pushes them insistently into your arms.

“I must not keep You,” he urges, and the front door opens again.  Obligingly, you step outside into a pile of rose petals.  “Since you will be heading that way anyway, I shall ask a favour of You.  Please deliver those materials to my Friend.”

_How will I know where to go?_

The boy points at your feet, and you look down.  The petals are laid denser than they were before, and when you follow their path they seem to head in a different direction than the one you came from.  When you look up again, the boy is gone and the door is closed, and the house or the forest or the boy is chanting or humming or singing again.

 

A message appears in the fogged-over window.

**Please do not hesitate to visit again, little Kitten**

 

You clutch your parcel close to your chest and follow the rose petals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> natsume-kun!!!!!!  
> re: his speech...thing: i've seen it be translated like THIS, or like thIS, but i thought those would be too much and distract from the overall dialogue/feel of it so i decided to just capitalise the first letter of the last word of his sentences/statements. i hope it isn't too weird...
> 
> thank you for the kudos, bookmarks (and viv for the super sweet comment) on chapter 1! they made me really happy :>
> 
> check me out @ inuihayato on tumblr if you wanna yell at me...or with me...


	3. The Dollmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He means to say thank you,” Doll-girl says, suddenly by your side. “Shu-kun just isn’t good with people.” She takes your hand again and leads you further into the cave, past the oblivious boy engrossed in his new presents.  
>  _What are the materials for?_  
>  “Shu-kun makes things,” Doll-girl replies. “Clothes. Dresses. Hats and shoes. Dolls, sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, [CHECK OUT THIS AMAZING FANART OF MY MER!KANATA FROM CHAPTER 1](https://twitter.com/vilatile/status/863243691087077376) BY VIV (@vilatile on twitter / vilatile on tumblr) HOLY HECK!!!! viv is a really cool artist and rad person, definitely check 'em out!
> 
> secondly, thank you so much for the kudos, comments and bookmarks on this so far! it really motivates me to keep going, you're all awesome.

This time, the petals lead you further, and the forest gets darker.  The trees encroach all around you, their canopies locking together above you into an almost perfect ceiling, until only the scantest dapples of sunlight peek through to light your path.  Your path of rose petals is waning, and it’s getting harder to pick out the small clumps that are left on the forest floor.

 

You consider turning back, but the fortune teller’s cottage is long out of sight, and as you turn to look, you see the rose petals you walk over are vanishing behind you as well.

 

When you turn around again, two boys stand in front of you.

 

You stumble back, startled, but they don’t move.  You notice they both have the same face, and their bodies are strangely translucent.  They look at you, and then each other.  It conveys a secret, melancholy message you don’t understand.

One of the boys flickers out of existence and reappears a few feet further ahead of you.  The other follows him a moment later.  It’s a jarring thing, like the awkward skip of a scratched disc—a moment where something that should have been there isn’t, and you are plucked out of time itself; and then it returns all at once, and you are plunged back in, left reeling and disorientated.

You clutch the fabrics from the fortune teller close and begin after the boys.

 

It continues like this for what feels like an eon.  The boys have something of a vaporous glow, so you can always see them even in the gloom of the forest, though every so often they will take turns looking back at you, as if checking you’re still there.   As you follow them, they seem to grow more light-hearted as well, blinking in and out of sight in erratic patterns: between the trees, together and then apart and then together again, linking hands and swinging arms and laughing like children.  You recall hearing this laughter before, from further away.

 

And then the boys are gone, and the forest canopy opens up in front of you, and there is a girl, bathed in the sunlight.

 

She sees you immediately and rushes over, covering your full hands with her own.  Her skin is smooth and cool as porcelain, and the newly-uncovered sunshine bounces off her perfect, golden hair and makes her eyes sparkle like emeralds set into her face.

She lights up as she sees the bundle in your arms, but there’s something uncanny and artificial in her expression—like realistic CGI, or a waxwork.

“A delivery!” she exclaims, and her voice is unfittingly falsetto.  “Come with me!”  She grips your hand and pulls you along behind her, and as you look down at her fingers you see the unmistakable connections of false joints where her knuckles should be.

* * *

 

Light breaks more easily and regularly through the treetops from then on, and the doll-like girl’s dainty feet kick their way through leaves and shrubbery as she earnestly tugs you onwards.

Soon, you both arrive at the mouth of a cave, and the girl drops your hand and skips inside.  Hesitantly, you follow her.

Inside, the cave stretches back much further than you thought, but the low ceiling and strings of fairy lights adorning the walls give it a snug, intimate feel.  Half-dressed mannequin bodies stand in a line, pinned in frills and unfinished corsets.  A large, rustic desk sits to one side, strewn with sketchbooks and thread and multi-coloured pieces of cloth.  At this desk sits a boy, hyper-focused on sewing something.  You hang back by the entrance as the doll-like girl kneels by the boy’s side and mutters something to him, her delicate hand on his arm.  He listens for a moment and then drops his work and springs up, catching the bow atop the doll-girl’s head in his movement and knocking it askew.  He does not fix it.

“Finally, Natsume!” he cries, whirling to face you.  “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—having to use these _scraps_ to try and assemble something close to—”  His expression, disgruntled and impatient, shifts into something resembling uncertainty as he regards you.  “…You are not Natsume.”

You shake your head.  You do not know who Natsume is, but you are most certainly not that person.

“Who are you?” the boy demands.  Now that he’s looking at you, you can see his hair and skin are alike in their soft peach colour, and in contrast his eyes are dark and arrogant.  He holds himself elegantly, but his crossed arms are wary.  He looks to the doll-girl.  “Why have you brought this little girl here?”

The doll-like girl’s bow is still squint, and the boy roughly fixes it.  “She has your delivery,” Doll-girl replies, ever-smiling.  “And I thought you would be happy to have a visitor.  We rarely get any these days, ever since—”

“Quiet!” the boy snaps, and Doll-girl obediently falls silent.  The boy holds his hand out to you, his sharp gaze following a second later.  You hand over the fabrics.  The boy just turns away and back to his table, sweeping his previous work aside and laying the new material over the surface.  Laid out, you can now see the fabric is a generous amount of black and deep crimson material of impeccable quality.  The boy’s expression softens as he gazes at it, running his fingers over it as he seats himself at the desk again, apparently finished with you.

 

“He means to say thank you,” Doll-girl says, suddenly by your side.  “Shu-kun just isn’t good with people.”  She takes your hand again and leads you further into the cave, past the oblivious boy engrossed in his new presents.

_What are the materials for?_

“Shu-kun makes things,” Doll-girl replies.  “Clothes.  Dresses.  Hats and shoes.  Dolls, sometimes.”  She turns to smile at you.  The gentle glow of the fairy lights softens the unnatural sculpt of her face.

_Did he make you?_

“Shu-kun isn’t good with people,” she says again, but her strange voice is tinged with sadness this time.  “I think he’s lonely.  And I think…we make him less lonely.  But he is…shy, and clumsy with words.”  Here she pauses to chuckle, but there’s no mirth in it.  “Shu-kun gave me a body, and a dress, and a voice, and in return I say what he is too frightened to.  He made another, too, but that one was…too human, and it left us to be with other humans.  …Shu-kun could leave too, but he doesn’t realise it.”

 

You reach the back of the cave, and here two floor lamps are set up on either side of…something.  Doll-girl reaches over and flicks one of the lamps on, and it illuminates _a body_.

No—a doll.  Another doll-person, this one unmistakably male in figure.  It stares unseeingly at you, its right eye shining gold in the lamplight and its left, a bright aqua.

“This is Shu-kun’s new friend, and my little brother,” Doll-girl says, gently moving to smooth the doll-boy’s messy black hair.  “But he isn’t finished yet.”

“It is a failure,” a scornful voice says, and you turn to see the boy, Shu, striding towards you.  “Nothing I try works on it.”  You wonder why he doesn’t seem to be able to look at the doll-boy.

You reach out to touch the doll-boy’s cheek.  _I think he’s beautiful_.

Shu slaps your hand away before your fingers land on their mark.  “Then you have never seen real beauty,” he scoffs, and waves the hand that struck you dismissively.  Doll-girl continues to thread her thin fingers through the doll-boy's hair, and Shu leaves her be.  You wonder why she is allowed to touch, but not you.  “Now leave me in peace.”

 

Doll-girl escorts you back to the cave entrance.  “Thank you for coming,” she says.  “Shu-kun was happy to have a visitor, despite the things he said.  And I think…I think he will finish our new friend soon.  I hope you will come back to visit us then!”

_Of course._

She smiles and embraces you, and then turns to leave again.

 _Wait._   She stops.  _What’s your name?_

Doll-girl beams, illuminating the dark forest around her.  “Shu-kun calls me Mademoiselle.” 

* * *

 

You bid farewell to Mademoiselle, but as you look to your feet for your next path, you realise the forest floor is empty of the comforting red of rose petals.  You spin around, but the cave you have just left is gone too, replaced by an ever-present army of intimidating tree trunks.

 

“Over here, child,” a voice says, and as you circle back to face your initial direction, you see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few things about this chapter:  
> 1\. i didn't mean to take so long to write it. real-life stuff and other hobbies got in the way. plus, there was a lot of stuff i wanted to convey in this chapter and i wasn't sure how to do it. (and i don't think i succeeded at all)  
> 2\. i'm terrible at writing shu...  
> 3\. the ghost boys are the aoi twins, and they'll probably(?) show up in the next chapter too, and their story might be told...  
> 4\. the "doll who was too human and left to be with humans" is nazuna.  
> 5\. i wanted to avoid using names as far as possible in this fic, but it felt kind of unavoidable in this chapter, so i think i'm just gonna abandon that idea for now.  
> 6\. i also wanted to avoid mentioning "your" gender in this fic but c'mon, you're meant to be anzu basically  
> 7\. OOOO CLIFFHANGER....or not, since it's probably fairly obvious who the next chapter is gonna be about...
> 
> as always, kudos/comments/bookmarks are really appreciated, and feel free to hmu @ inuihayato on tumblr if you wanna talk to me about this fic (or anything really)!


	4. The Vampire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This forest can be considered many things. A meeting place. A temporary escape. A new home. ‘Not all those who wander are lost’, as they say. Though many are.  
> “Humans, and non-humans, even those who have already passed on from your world may all find themselves here, though the reasons remain unknown even to me. Perhaps it is fate, or luck—though I can’t say if it is good or bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this time: secrets are revealed...! kind of...!

As soon as you see him, everything goes white.  The trees, the ground, the figure in front of you—everything disintegrates into blinding nothingness.  A cold hand takes your own, and you feel the sensation of being tugged gently forward through the emptiness.

* * *

 

You blink, and you are sitting down.  Your mind feels like it has done a somersault, and you shake your head to clear it.

You are at a table in a quaint room.  The voile curtains are drawn, but enough light filters through them to give the space a drowsy, cosy atmosphere.  Across from you, a young man sits.

“My apologies.”  His voice is a pleasant drawl, but when he grins his canines and smile are as sharp as each other.  “The first time travelling through the space of the forest can leave one…slightly confused.”

_Space?_

He doesn’t seem to hear you.  “I just couldn’t bear a young lady getting lost in the forest.  Terrible things can happen if you get lost, you know.”

You open your mouth to ask something more, but then you blink again, and the young man has moved—he now stands pouring something into a glass on the table.  There is one set by you as well, and he offers you the bottle in his hand.  The liquid inside is scarlet and syrupy.

“It’s tomato juice,” he insists.  You are not convinced.

_No thank you._

“Very well.”  He sets the bottle down and takes his seat again, taking a dainty sip from his glass.  “My children and I have been watching you.”

_Children?_

“Yes, you’ve met them, haven’t you?  They led you through the dark to meet the dollmaker.”  You think of the ghost boys.  “They are…good children.  I found them wandering one day.”  He sounds sad, you think, and his eyes have slipped from your face to stare into the glass in his hand.  But he seems to catch himself, and meets your curious gaze again with a smile.  “Luckily, I found _you_ sooner.”

Another blink, and the young man is by your side.  His glass is empty.  “Now then,” he says, “shall we take a walk?”

* * *

 

You are outside.  You are not really sure how you got here.  You don’t remember leaving the room.  You feel upside down again though your feet are on the ground, and you take a moment to mentally right yourself.  The young man walks beside you, and you notice a gentle rustling with every step the two of you take.  Looking up, you see the tree canopies arrange themselves over you, creating a covering of shade for you to walk through.  As you pass, they return to their rightful places, letting sunlight pour onto the forest floor behind you once again.

“I’m sorry to make you walk in the gloom,” the young man says, inclining his head a bit, “but I find the harshness of the sunlight…disagreeable.  And I’m not as young as I used to be, so it is difficult to bear it.”

_You don’t look old._

This makes him laugh—a quiet, amused chuckle that he raises a pale hand to his lips to stifle.  “My child,” he says, “I am almost as old as the forest itself.  So old I have long forgotten the nature of my birth, the circumstances of my longevity, and even the purpose of my existence.  Perhaps I never knew them at all.”

_Have you always been here?_

“Yes.  As far as I recall, it has always been my home.  Though not everyone brought into existence here sees it as such—my own brother left some years ago to take up residence in your world.  Ah, how long ago was that?  A hundred years?  Two—three?  It is hard to say…”  There is that melancholy twang in his voice again, but he continues before you can interject.

“But it is in the nature of this forest to see many come and go…as well as those who _stay_.  Some merely pass through, some visit for a while, some do not want to leave, and…some _cannot_ leave.  Those, I like to keep an eye on.”  He looks at you suddenly, and even in the shade his crimson eyes bore right into you, but his stare feels unthreatening, and familiar almost.  “I think you will be able to leave.  Should you wish it, of course.  The forest seems to have taken a liking to you.”

_The…forest has?_

The young man raises his eyebrows.  “Haven’t you noticed?  The forest has been listening to you, child.  The forest listens to everyone.  That is how you managed to find your way so far, how I brought you to my abode, and how the trees shelter me from the sun.  It listens, and if you ask, it may accommodate.  Even if you are not aware you are asking.”

_If it listens to everyone, then why can’t lost travellers just ask to leave?_

“Ah, you are a smart one, young lady,” the young man chuckles.  “But the forest has its own whims, just as you or I.  Recently, it has refused to comply to many of _my_ requests, though it never used to turn me down.”  He lets out an affected sigh, slumping his shoulders in what you take to be faux anguish, then rights himself and folds his arms, looking into the distance.  “Nowadays, there is a louder voice that the forest caters to…

“You will probably meet him soon.  He wants to meet you—one who is like him—and so the forest wants you to meet him.  It has been leading you towards him all this time.”

_What do you mean?  What is this place, really?_

The young man hums a thoughtful sound.  “This forest can be considered many things.  A meeting place.  A temporary escape.  A new home.  ‘Not all those who wander are lost’, as they say.  Though many are.”  He smirks, seeming pleased with his little joke.  “Humans, and non-humans, even those who have already passed on from your world may all find themselves here, though the reasons remain unknown even to me.  Perhaps it is fate, or luck—though I can’t say if it is good or bad.

 

“For example,” the young man continues, “Kanata, the young merman you met.  I found him as a wandering soul, twisting lost and mournful between the trees.  His voice was garbled and ghoulish, but I could tell he was sad, and lonely.  I asked the forest to give him form, and a place to belong, and it did.  Though I do not know what it pulled from the last fragments of his coherent thoughts to have him end up…in such a way.”  You think of the merman’s slit pupils, the sinister gashes of gills in his neck, and his lilting voice that seemed to tempt you closer even when he was not speaking.  The young man breathes a half-laugh through his nose.  “I suppose he is still lonely.  But we are all lonely, here.”

_Like Shu?_

The young man “hmm”s again.  Above you both, the hiss of the twisting treetops continues.  “Yes,” he says after a long moment.  “Shu is…a contradiction.  His loneliness is self-inflicted.  He is frightened, so he hides in the dark to keep people out, but he also so desperately wants to let the light in.  One hopes, if he manages to complete the doll he has been working so earnestly on, that he will be able to live completely in the light one day.”

_But doesn’t the fortune teller visit him?_

“Oh, Natsume?”  The name is familiar—you recall Shu saying it as well.  “Natsume has been a regular visitor of everyone since he was a child.  The forest has always been fond of him, and he used to spend a lot of time with me, but even I was surprised when he was gifted a home on the outskirts.  He is one of the few who can enter and leave as he pleases, and he seems to have made quite a lucrative business out of it,” the young man snickers.

_He said I had to meet more people before I could leave._

“Ah, yes, three more, correct?”  You wonder how he knows that.  You wonder what else he knows that he is not telling.  “And you have met Shu, and you have met me.  So that leaves one.”

_How do I meet them?_

“He can be hard to find,” the young man admits, “but I’m sure he is looking for you as well.  Perhaps if you ask the forest, it will show you the way.”

_How do I do that?_

“My child,” he says, smiling toothily and taking your arm, “you have been asking all along.  I’m sure you can do it again.”

* * *

 

You close your eyes, and you think.  You think of yourself, standing outside the forest.  You think of your first step in.

You think of the rose petals. 

You think of the wide, clear lake.  You think of the merman, Kanata.  **He gets ‘mad’ if I am ‘friends’ with humans.  He ‘likes’ humans.**

You think of the rose petals. 

You think of the little yellow cottage.  You think of the fortune teller, Natsume’s hands on the crystal ball.  **You will meet him after All.  At the End.**  

You think of the rose petals. 

You think of the eerie dark of the forest.  You think of the doll-girl Mademoiselle, and her maker, Shu.  **Shu-kun could leave too, but he doesn’t realise it.**  

You think of the rose petals. 

You think of a searing vacuum of space.  You think of treetop umbrellas.  You think of the young man with the fanged smile.  **You will probably meet him soon.**  

You think of the rose petals.

You think of the rose petals.

You think of the—

 

“Ah,” the young man says, and you open your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rei: GOD I'M SO OLD, I'M REALLY OLD, DID I MENTION HOW OLD I WAS?? LOOK AT THE POINTLESSLY FLOWERY WAY I SPEAK BECAUSE I'M O
> 
>  
> 
> next time: my best boy finally takes the stage! and more secrets are revealed...! maybe...!
> 
> again, thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback on this fic! it motivates me so much! we're almost at the end!


	5. The Magician

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s someone else in the clearing now—another young man, tall and thin and with an extravagant cascade of hair tumbling down his back. His arms are open wide as the falling feathers settle into the roses at his feet, as if the birds had flown straight out of the boy himself. You think he looks like a magician on stage, and though he isn’t dressed gaudily, you can easily imagine a top hat, and coat-tails fluttering behind him. For a moment you almost think they’re actually there—and then you blink and the long-haired boy is next to you, clutching one of your hands between the both of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY WE REACH THE END
> 
> i'm sorry for the long delay, i had such a hard time trying to figure out exactly what to do with wataru's chapter. but i hope you enjoy!

The forest has vanished.

No—  No, it hasn’t, you realise as you spin in place: it still very much exists behind you, not even two feet away.  The young man (or, old vampire?) is still there, hiding from the sunlight in the shade of the trees.  But **before you** …

Before you, an enormous clearing has carved itself into the space, far bigger than the one Kanata’s lake occupied.  The entire floor is carpeted in brilliant red roses.  For the first time, you can see the sky clearly, and the sun beams down onto the dew on the roses’ petals, making them sparkle.

“I told you it would work,” the young man’s voice says from behind you.  “The forest listened.”

You turn to face him—and gosh, the contrast between the bright clearing and the shady conglomeration of trees is startling. 

_But there’s no one here_.

“He likes to make an entrance,” the young man smirks.

Just then, a voice booms out from the clearing.  “ **Greetings!** **☆** ”

You turn back to the clearing—and **dozens** of pure white birds rush past you, so quickly you could barely identify them as birds if not for the deafening flapping sound of their wings and the occasional soft feather-brush as they pass you.  They completely block the view in front of you, and you vaguely realise it’s the first time you’ve seen any sort of actual animal in the forest.

Eventually, the birds thin out and vanish altogether, as if they had never been there at all.  The only trace left of them is several white feathers floating down around—

_Oh._

There’s someone else in the clearing now—another young man, tall and thin and with an extravagant cascade of hair tumbling down his back.  His arms are open wide as the falling feathers settle into the roses at his feet, as if the birds had flown straight out of the boy himself.  You think he looks like a magician on stage, and though he isn’t dressed gaudily, you can easily imagine a top hat, and coat-tails fluttering behind him.  For a moment you almost think they’re actually there—and then you blink and the long-haired boy is next to you, clutching one of your hands between the both of his, although he’s looking your vampire-like companion and not at you.

“Rei!” he exclaims, smiling widely.  “This is rare!  You never come to visit!”

The vampiric young man—Rei, apparently—smiles lazily, his fangs showing.  “You’re far too bright for me, Wataru, you know that.”

The long-haired boy, Wataru, just laughs, and then his eyes are on you.  They’re an unearthly pale lavender colour, and regard you seriously for a split-second—and then Wataru is kneeling dramatically amongst the flowers at your feet.  Perhaps you imagined the serious look? 

“Welcome,” he croons, your hand still in one of his, and now he’s plucking a rose that’s by his side and pressing it into your hand instead.  You flinch, anticipating the thorns on the stem, but the pain never comes, and when you look again it’s not a rose after all, but a single blue peony.  “I, your very own Hibiki Wataru, am glad you could make it,” Wataru says, as though you are a friend he hasn’t seen in a while, invited over to visit.  You try to look at his face, but he’s gone and halfway across the clearing before you can do so—and the area begins to **shift**.

It’s nigh imperceptible at first, as even after all you’ve seen your brain struggles to accept the fact that reality is warping around you, but as you look and concentrate more you begin to see it happening in real-time: the roses twist in place and change colour and shape, becoming bluebells and camellias; cherry blossoms begin to swirl through the air from nowhere in particular; lotus flowers bloom sporadically through the clearing, though there is no water for them to reside in.

But still, a path of red petals winds its way to where Wataru is, spinning in circles and laughing among it all.

 

You turn to Rei, and see the cherry blossoms are falling from the trees he is sheltering under, although you don’t recall them being cherry blossom trees before.

_Who is he?_

“Wataru?”  Rei hums thoughtfully.  “Even I am not really sure.  He was left here as a babe, and the forest got to him before I could.  As such, he belongs to the forest, and in a way, the forest belongs to him in turn.  He is more at home here than any of us, though he hails from outside lands.”

_Is that why you said the forest doesn’t listen to you sometimes?_

Rei sighs.  “Yes.  I am still granted my shade, and my travel, but Wataru is granted…anything.  From flowers, to animals, to friends.  Whatever Wataru wishes for, the forest delivers.”

_Friends?_

Rei averts his eyes.  It’s telling.  “Since Wataru arrived here, the number of lost travellers I have heard of in the forest has…increased significantly.  It is like he draws them in.  Or rather, that the forest draws them in for him.”

_Like me?_   Now Rei looks at you again.  His gaze is serious, but a smile quirks at his lips nonetheless.  “Perhaps.  There have been others, too.”

_Where are they now?_

Rei’s smile falters, and threatens to fall into a solemn, thin line across his mouth.  “Some leave.  Some die.  None have stayed, so far.”

You regard Wataru, still frolicking aimlessly a ways away, like he is putting on a show for you.  The flower in your hand has morphed into a crimson spider lily, and you twirl the stem between your fingers.  _He must be lonely._

“Perhaps,” Rei says again.  “But as I said, we are all lonely here, in one way or another.”

“Rei! ☆” Wataru interjects, suddenly and suffocatingly close to the vampiric young man.  Rei flinches, as if startled, and you laugh.  Wataru seems delighted in your response, his smile growing bigger.  “Everyone is coming!  Isn’t it wonderful?”

_Who is coming?_

“Everyone!” Wataru says again, emphatically.  He’s looking directly into your eyes.  “They’re coming to see you before you go!”

You ponder the implications of his words, but before you can ask, Wataru has you by the hand again, leading you into the middle of the clearing.  He sits, and he pulls you down too, with your back to him, in a cushiony pile of pink rose petals.

“Did you come from the outside?” Wataru asks, at the same moment as you feel long fingers in your hair, combing through the strands.

You think the answer fairly obvious, but you decide to humour this strange being.  _Yes._

“Amazing! ☆” he gushes.  You feel your hair being sectioned, gently manipulated and twisted, and you realise Wataru is braiding it.  “I’ve never been to the outside!”

_Never?_

“Not once!  Whenever I wander too far, I always manage to find my way back here, no matter what direction I go!  I can never get lost and accidentally leave the forest!”

His tone of voice hasn’t changed, but you wonder what his facial expression would look like if you could see it.

_Don’t you ever want to leave?_

There is a tiny spell of silence, broken almost immediately by Wataru’s laughter, loud and obnoxious.  His hands leave your hair, and one snakes around you to close over the flower in your hand.  “And now, on the count of three,” Wataru says, his other hand drawing exaggerated gestures in the air on your opposite side as he counts.  “One, two—three!”  He opens the hand around the flower to reveal it has changed again, this time into a small bunch of purple erica.

For some reason, you can’t remember the question you just asked. 

 

“Look!” Wataru gasps suddenly, although when you turn your head he is no longer behind you, and you are not quite sure where his voice is coming from.  “Everyone’s arriving!”

 

To your left, the ground begins to fall away into a wide, deep hole, stopping only a few inches from where you sit.  From somewhere in the bottom of the hole, water begins to trickle in, slowly at first, and then faster until the entire cavity is filled, forming a spring.  After a few moments, the merman, Kanata’s head pops up from the water.  He locks his eerie eyes on you and swims to the edge of the spring by you, pulling himself up on his elbows just as he did when you first met.

“I am ‘sorry’,” he says, and you don’t know why he is apologising, but you can still hear his unspoken whispering in the far recesses of your mind, and you also know **exactly** why he is apologising.

_It’s all right._

Kanata grins, and his mouth is full of too many sharp teeth.  He submerges again, and you resist the urge to follow him, and turn away.

 

Trees have begun to crowd your right-hand side in thick uniform rows, creating a dark path out of the clearing.  From the path, the doll-girl Mademoiselle emerges, clutching the hand of a dark-haired boy with the same odd, marionette-like joints she has.  The boy looks around in wonder, and you recognise him as the unfinished doll from before, though no longer unfinished.  Hanging further back among the tree trunks is Shu.

Mademoiselle sees you and waves you over.  “Look,” she says in her falsetto tone when you are close enough, “Shu-kun finished him!”  She gestures to the doll-boy, who hovers slightly behind her, mismatched eyes fixed unblinkingly on you.  He is wearing elaborate clothing of rich, dark colours and shining buttons, a matching set with Mademoiselle’s dress.  “This is Mika-chan!  Isn’t he beautiful?”

_Hello._   Mika starts at your voice and drops Mademoiselle’s hand, fleeing to take shelter behind Shu instead.

“Mika-chan is shy, and he hasn’t found his voice yet,” Mademoiselle explains.  “I think he’s a lot like Shu-kun in that way.”  She giggles.  “But he likes Shu-kun a lot!  And I think Shu-kun likes him a lot too.”

Shu scoffs, apparently listening in to your conversation.  “This one needs a lot of work before he’s close to an acceptable level,” he says, but when you look up, his hand rests fondly on top of Mika’s head.  Mademoiselle looks at you, an unnervingly **human-like** knowing look in her glassy eyes.

 

The ghost boys emerge from the forest behind Shu then, flickering around you happily (you think) for a brief moment when they spot you before heading off across the clearing.  You turn to follow their direction and see them stop next to Rei, flashing in and out of sight, and possibly existence, on either side of him as he looks on with a fond expression.

 

Movement catches your attention a little way off from where Rei stands, and there is Wataru, and the fortune teller, Natsume, too.  Both are talking animatedly, and, curious, you decide to approach.

“Amazing ☆!” Wataru is exclaiming again, when you get close enough to hear.  His arms are full of small boxes and packages, some of which you recognise as popular snack foods.  “To think you would bring me such wonders from the outside!”  Wataru plucks a box from the pile and regards it with fascination.  From where you are, you see that it is a box of Pocky.

“I’m glad you like Them, Nii-san,” Natsume replies, and you think he looks younger, more boyish, his smile more genuine, than the last time you saw him.  But then he sees you, and he is every inch the mysterious fortune-teller you met before.  “Little Kitten?  You are here Already?  Then, that means it is time for you to Go.  Look.”

He motions to your hand and you look at the flower you hold – when had it turned into a single edelweiss? – as it begins to morph before your eyes, changing shape and colour into a pretty pink sweet pea.

You look up at Wataru, and almost laugh at the comically dramatic angle of his eyebrows and downturned curve of his lips – a perfect sad clown’s mask.  “Every show must come to an end,” he announces, somehow no longer holding any of Natsume’s souvenirs.  He extends a hand to you.  “But perhaps, an encore?”

You smile, but shake your head.  _Maybe next time._

“Ah,” he says, retracting his hand again.  “Then you leave me without an audience!”

_You already had an audience before I came._

Wataru looks genuinely confused.  It’s a little refreshing to see that expression.

You hold your arms out in a grand gesture that encompasses Natsume, Rei, Shu, Kanata, and the others in its scale.  _You have all these friends to perform to!_

Wataru blinks for a moment, and then his face splits into a blinding grin.  “You’re right!” he says, as though he has just realised it, and maybe he has.  He laughs, but then leans in close to you, his voice a deeper, quiet rumble in his throat.  “But you will come back and visit, I hope?”

You nod, and that’s enough for him.  He gambols away into the flowers, grabbing Mademoiselle and Mika by the hands and dancing with them among the petals.  Rei’s ghost boys join in on the fun too, their sputtering, janky movements seeming somehow joyful.

 

“Time to go?”  The voice belongs to Rei this time, suddenly right next to you.  Natsume nods, reaches to pat you on the head, and leaves to follow after Wataru.  Rei takes your hands.  You steal one last glance at the frolicking group among the flowers, and Kanata and Shu watching from a distance, and close your eyes.

“Then, let’s go.”

 

The floor shifts, and the atmosphere around you shifts, and the voices of Wataru and the others fade away, and when you open your eyes, you are at a familiar location – Natsume’s little yellow cottage.  It is much dimmer here compared to the clearing, and quieter without Wataru’s raucous laughter.  Rei walks forward, away from the cottage and towards the edge of the forest.  Still holding his hand, you follow.

“I would advise against returning,” Rei says, and you look at the back of his head, intrigued.  “Not everyone gets to leave every time.”  Then he turns his head to regard you from the corner of his eye, and you can see his fanged smile now.  “But—I cannot forbid you.  I lack that kind of power.  No one could do such a thing—except, perhaps, Wataru.  Though I think he does not realise it.”  Rei chuckles.  “And the forest likes you, child—as do its inhabitants.”

Rei stops, and you stop, and you are both at the very edge of the forest.  Beyond it, you can see familiar lands.  Your lands.  Your home.

“I can go no further,” Rei states.  “Or rather, I would prefer not to.  It rather embarrasses me to admit, but I am somewhat apprehensive of leaving, in case I cannot return.”

He drops your hand, and you take another step forward.  Immediately, the air feels different—louder, crisper, colder.  You turn around immediately, but the forest and Rei are both still there.  Still real.

_Goodbye._

“Goodbye, child.  Trust me when I say, we all hope to see you again.”

You turn and walk away.

* * *

 

You don’t know how long you’ve been away, but the sun is still high in the sky as it was when you first entered the forest.  Perhaps no time has passed at all.  Or perhaps it’s been days, or months even, and you just happen to be exiting at the same time of day as you entered.  A strange foreboding edges into your stomach, and you wonder if the forest has crept into your mind like Kanata’s silent voice, trying to twist your thoughts and coax you back.

You keep walking.

But the temptation is too much, and so, once you are a good distance away, you turn back to look.  Rei is gone, but the little yellow cottage is still barely visible, the strange purple smoke still rising from its chimney.

You go a few minutes further, and look back again.  Now the cottage is gone too, and the forest just looks like an odd bunch of trees, sitting out of place in a space where they shouldn’t be.

You turn back only once more, and this time the forest is almost out of sight, but you think you can still feel the magic of the place twisting around you like the spiral of the braid in your hair.  You squint, and you think you can see a lone, long-haired figure, waving to you from the forest’s edge.

And then you blink, and the forest is gone completely.

And the flower still held in your hand is a perfect, scarlet rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END.........or is it? (nah, it is.)
> 
> thank you all so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed the ride as much as i enjoyed writing it! thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos, it kept me going when i was struggling.
> 
> i'll leave it up to your imagination how long you were in the forest for........and if you'll ever go back....  
> (oh, also, i kind of shoehorned in some hanakotoba stuff with the flower wataru gave you and the flowers in the clearing, and Yes they're meant to be kind of a mess of mixed messages....perhaps there's a reason for that? fufu...)

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are really appreciated! :>


End file.
